


He's Not a Fallen Angel

by kelly42fox



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Small Town, Amputee Castiel, Disabled Castiel, First Dates, First Kiss, Gardener Castiel, Gossip, M/M, Recluse Castiel, Sheriff Dean, Veteran Castiel, Veteran Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 18:25:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3701909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelly42fox/pseuds/kelly42fox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean moved to the small town of Big Sky.  He settled in and got to know the whole community as their new Sheriff Deputy, or so he thought.  Then he met the very private man who lived just outside of town...</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's Not a Fallen Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [b_ann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/b_ann/gifts).



> I had a dream. I don't remember it now, but this story was there when I woke up.
> 
> I'm pretty much going to dedicate all of my stories to my best friend and sometimes editor, b_ann. She's the one who keeps me writing. And, yeah, she got to read this first.

Dean Winchester had been in the tiny, rural town of Big Sky for about six months when he first saw the Fallen Angel. He was sitting in the local diner that hadn’t been updated since it was built in the 1950s. It was clean and frequented by all the locals. Dean liked it for the homemade pie and the wide, bright front windows. The whole entry way was glass, shaded by a large red sun bleached awning outside.

Sitting at his usual spot by the front window, back to the wall, he had an excellent view of the whole restaurant and Main Street Big Sky outfront. He was cleaning his plate with the last of his fries when a garish gold late 70’s Lincoln pulled into the vertical parking spot next to his Baby. The ‘pimpmobile’ was well cared for and clean. It piqued Dean’s interest, as he hadn’t seen the car in town before. 

The driver wallowed out of the seat and stumbled slightly, correcting his balance. When he was steady on his feet, his attention caught on Baby over the roof of his car.

Dean was pleased to see the man’s thoughtful evaluation of Dean’s, being modest, stunning car. A bonus was the man’s appearance, thick dark hair, unique yet stunning profile, and strong jaw. Yeah, Dean appreciated a good looking man, but he kept those thoughts strictly to himself. 

The man rounded the back of his car and paused to get a better look at Baby. He placed a gentle hand on her tail end, and a smirk barely graced his features. Almost instinctively, the man looked up, into the window of the diner, and blue eyes locked with Dean’s.

Dean raised a lazy hand in greeting and smiled as if to say ‘yeah, she’s mine.’ The man’s response was unexpected, eyes widening in surprise. Then all emotion drained from his face, and it hardened into a mask. Confused, Dean raised an eyebrow.

The man gave no indication of a response and abruptly turned, heading across the street to the hardware store. As he walked away, Dean noticed a distinct limp, favoring his left leg. 

Dean watched the man until he disappeared into the store across the street. Then he turned his attention to the bar within the mostly empty diner. “Hey, Jo,” he called and caught the attention of the young, blonde waitress working behind the counter.

“Yes, Dean?”

“I thought I knew everyone in town by now. Who is that?” Dean indicated to the gold car out front.

Jo hesitated, as if she was deliberating how to respond to his question. When it took the waitress too long to form an answer, one of the other townspeople replied. A middle aged man sitting at the bar said simply, “He’s known as The Fallen Angel. I honestly don’t know his name. He lives out in that overgrown fence outside of town. He’s kinda a recluse.”

“His last name is Novak. I don’t remember his first. It’s something odd. Starts with a ‘C’ or ‘K’,” the woman sitting in the next booth, Milly, chimed in. “He came into see the doctor where I part time reception now. He’s a vet, missing his left leg just below the knee. That must be horrible. He’s got a huge tattoo of wings on his back. Asked him what they were for. Told me they ‘represent his service,’ and that was all I got. I was curious, so I looked it up on the internet….”

Dean raised his hand to cut her off. “I just wanted a name, not all his personal history. That should be confidential, anyway.”

“Yeah, Milly, Doc Barnes would be pissed if she knew you were telling people this,” Jo said. “It’s bad enough that you got everyone referring to him as ‘The Fallen Angel.’”

Dean ignored the rest of the interaction even though it continued quite loudly. He turned his attention out the window. He didn’t have to look it up on the internet. He knew exactly what that tattoo meant both literally and psychologically. Once in a unit, always in a unit, and Dean had a star encircled by flames on his left pec to prove it. Dean’s unit, the hunters, never interacted with Novak’s. The angels were elite, best of the best, and everyone serving at that time knew what happened to them. 

Dean’s stomach sank when he thought about about his own actions in combat and the after effects. He didn’t want to think about what that man saw when he closed his eyes.

~

Dean Winchester had been in Big Sky for nine months the second time he saw Novak.  
Dean was coming out of the bar at the far end of Main Street after his Friday night cap. He’d had just enough to drink to be pleasantly sociable. It wasn’t late, and he’d normally spend more time out with the guys. He’d had a long week at the station and sleep was in order. When he started his walk home, the summer sun was just setting over the horizon and shadows were taking over. The street lights were flickering on, and they drew Dean’s attention down the road.

A gold Lincoln was parked in front of the hardware store two blocks down, bathed in the watery, yellow glow of the street light. It’s owner was struggling across the street with what appeared to be a 20 pound bag of fertilizer slung over his shoulder. It was throwing off his balance, and he was staggering slightly.

The owner of the hardware store had turned off the store lights, flipped off the ‘open’ sign, and was locking up. He kept glancing over at the man struggling across the street, and even though Dean was too far away to see his expression, he clearly saw the owner shake his head before disappearing around the side of the building.

Stubborn and independent were two words that came to Dean’s mind when his attention focused on Novak. It was pretty clear the man wouldn’t accept the store owner’s help.

Despite his better judgement, emboldened by the alcohol, Dean jogged down Main Street toward the parked gold Lincoln. He made it just in time for Novak to reach the trunk of his car.

“Hey, man,” Dean approached tentatively with a friendly smile. “It’s a bit late for gardening.”

“Why do you care?” rumbled a response from the other man.

Dean’s smile shifted to a grin. He hadn’t expected a gravelly baritone. It reminded him of too many cigarettes and whiskey. After putting another moment of thought into it, he decided, from what he knew of the man, it was appropriate.

“I’m just being neighborly…” Dean ventured and leaned against the side of the car. He watched the man open up the trunk and heave the bag inside before he continued. “I’m Dean Winchester, the new county sheriff deputy.”

Novak glanced over the hood of the trunk before he shut it. “I’m aware…”

Dean righted himself and held out his hand. Novak looked at it skeptically before taking it in a firm grip. “Castiel Novak.”

Dean’s eyebrows went up. Missy hadn’t been exaggerating about the man’s name. “It’s a pleasure, Castiel… If you don’t mind me askin’, how does one end up with such a unique title?”

Castiel seemed relieved about Dean’s response, and Dean wondered if the man got teased.

“I was named after an angel.”

“Ironic…” Dean said. It was clearly the wrong thing to say because the hard, emotionless mask Dean had seen in their first encounter slipped onto Castiel’s face.

“Good evening, Officer,” Castiel said curtly, and stepped around Dean. He had opened the driver’s side door before Dean had formulated a response.

“Look. Ok. Yes, people talk in this town. I have you at a disadvantage,” Dean said, and it gave Castiel pause. “I apologize for any notions that they’ve put in my head. But I know a few things. A few things that they don’t. I was a hunter, Castiel.”

At that Castiel looked up and met Dean’s eyes again. “Then you know that all I’m looking for is peace,” he said and sank into the driver’s seat. “Please respect that.”

As Dean watched the gold Lincoln head out of town, he wondered if Castiel was making any progress in his search. He wished for the man to be successful despite how futile he believed it. Peace was only something found by the dead. He’d witnessed that kind of rest too many times. He was fairly certain that Castiel knew it too. 

~

Dean Winchester had been in Big Sky for a year the third time he saw Castiel Novak.  
The sheriff’s office had received a call from one of Big Sky’s ‘concerned neighbors’ just after 8 am on a Saturday morning. They claimed to have seen smoke coming from the overgrown grove that was Castiel Novak’s sanctuary.

At 8:15 am, Dean pulled his squad car onto the short segment of driveway before the solid gate blocking Castiel’s home and yard from view. Getting out of the car, Dean took a moment to take in the details of the scene. He’d driven by Castiel’s place a number of times, but he’d never paid it any mind. On closer inspection, it seemed that his property was completely surrounded by a solid 8 foot fence made of some sort of plastic composite to avoid rot. It was solidly covered by ivy and other plants Dean couldn’t identify. The trees that hung over the fence were massive and thick with leaves that were starting to turn yellow. It looked like the inside would be a jungle.

There was a trail of smoke lifting out of the property, but it was thin and white. The smell on the breeze was of wood fire. Dean rolled his eyes. Castiel was probably using his fireplace.

Dean finally found the latch to the driveway gate, and to his luck, the lock was undone. He slipped through a small gap he made for himself. The sight that met Dean stopped him in his tracks. Shock ran through him as he surveyed everything in front of him.

The front yard was a garden. A literal flower garden. The manicured lawn was broken up by beds of flowers that were intricately and meticulously placed. Blues with pinks. Purples with whites. In the center of the garden was a stone fountain, a serious looking angel guarding a lamb, running clear water. Some sort of lotus were still blooming on the water’s surface.

The house was a plain single story cottage in immaculate condition. The roof and gutters were clean and clear of debris. The white paint was fresh and bright with bold dark green trim. Perfectly trimmed rose bushes, which still offered some bright white lacey blooms, lined the front walk.

Dean realized he’d been standing completely still for a long time. It had been long enough for him to be noticed. 

“Officer Winchester…” a voice growled from the side of the garage. “Why are you trespassing?”

With Castiel’s intervention, Dean was able to shelve his shocked awe and move along with his intended purpose. “I’m sorry, Castiel. I don’t mean to intrude, but we got a call this morning reporting the smoke coming from your property. I had to come and investigate.”

“You could have simply called to ask,” Castiel reasoned.

“Cas,” Dean sighed, embarrassed to admit, “No one in town has your phone number, and you’re not listed. This was faster.”

Castiel huffs a response. “Follow me.”

Castiel led Dean along the side of the garage to the back yard. While the front yard was a flower garden, the back was a vegetable garden. Like the front yard, the manicured grass was broken up by straight wide rows of dirt. It seemed that Castiel was preparing it for the winter. Much of the dark earth was bare and had recently been tilled.

“I’m burning off the excess plant matter that I can’t fit into my compost pile,” Castiel said, drawing Dean’s attention back. He was pointing at a large bare strip of earth, near the back fence, to the left of a large flat container that was open and piled with leaves, stalks, and some bright, rotting vegetables. A flicker of flame came from inside a large metal drum, Castiel’s controlled burn. “We had our first frost a few days ago, and I needed to take care of my garden before I wasted any more time.”

“I respect that… Better than I can say for myself. My lawn has needed mowing for weeks now.”

Castiel scoffed. “Yes, but this is all I care for, Dean. You have a whole county.”

Dean turned to Castiel. Was that a show of respect? For the second time since he arrived, he gaped. “I guess…” Dean finally shrugged. “I have to say, man, this is awesome. This whole setup you have here. I would never believe it if anyone told me. That front yard is a professional garden!”

“It’s my own Eden… at least as close I can get it.” Castiel said. “It’s taken me several years to grow everything to my liking. I’ve had to learn a lot. I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”

“You did a good job,” Dean beamed at Castiel, who couldn’t quite meet his gaze. There was meekness bubbling to the surface.

As a perfect distraction, a big calico cat trotted up to Castiel and weaved between his legs. It mewled, and rubbed its face against Castiel’s pant leg. Bending down, he picked up the animal and pulled it to his chest, rubbing it’s orange and black patched coat. “This is Tawnie. She keeps me company. Say hello to Dean.”

As if understanding Castiel, the cat turned to face Dean and meowed. It was the first time he noticed she was missing her right eye. “Hello, Tawnie.”

Not pulling his gaze from the cat, Castiel continued, “As you can see, she and I are two of a kind. It’s obvious why I chose to bring her home. She’s not usually so sociable. It’s because I haven’t fed her yet.” He chuckled, honestly chuckled, and Dean suddenly needed to hear it more.

“Don’t let her go hungry on my account,” Dean said with a small smile. He saw the man’s intense fondness for the animal. It was one more thing to add to the list of points proving that there was more than just bitterness in him.

“Please, come in…” Castiel replied as he turned toward the house. It seemed he wasn’t going to make his pet wait any longer. 

Dean was surprised by the invite, and his curiosity would not let him decline. Following after Castiel, Dean observed his actions without comment. 

Castiel opened the sliding glass door and unceremoniously dumped Tawnie onto the wood floor. She landed solidly and ran straight to her food bowl, placed just on the kitchen side of the wood dining room and linoleum kitchen floor junction. She plopped down and mewled, non stop. Castiel grumbled, “I know, I know,” at her.

Castiel was trying to hurry, but his shoes were caked with dirt. Sitting on the dining room floor, letting his feet hang out onto the steps leading up into the house, he untied his right shoe, kicking it off, but he simply took off his left foot. He left them both outside. If Dean weren’t aware of their precarious relationship, he would have laughed in surprise. 

Castiel replaced his left foot and right shoe with a pair of house slippers, habitually positioned and ready just inside the door. He then stood and made his way into the house, across the dining room, into the kitchen, to a cabinet that contained cat food.

Dean slipped off his shoes and stepped inside. 

“Will you keep an eye on the fire?” Castiel asked.

“Sure,” Dean offered and stayed in the dining room, with line of sight to both fire pit and Castiel. Dean leaned on the counter bar that separated the kitchen and dining room, watching Castiel measure out cat food and dump it into the bowl. He lifted the water bowl out of the way just before Tawnie darted toward the food dish.

“Thanks for not commenting on my foot…”

“Gonna be honest, I’d forgotten about it, and it made me want to laugh... Out of surprise.”

“That would have been a better response than some. I actually still have that response occasionally, myself, when I stop to think about it.” Castiel said after he turned off the water, bowl full.

“You want to laugh?” Dean asked incredulous. 

“Try to understand, Dean… My mobility is acceptable. I even go running most mornings. Once I got used to it, I hardly noticed it. It’s been 10 years. I forget, and when I remember again, it seems so ridiculous to forget something like that. It makes me laugh, the way dark comedy makes people laugh.” Cas placed the bowl of water next to Tawnie’s food dish.

“Fair enough…”

They stood in the sunlit dining room looking at each other for a long moment. An upturn of Castiel’s lips proceeded his statement, “You’re one of the few people to not treat me like a cripple.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “You’re clearly not a cripple.”

“For the last ten years it’s been ‘poor broken Castiel,’” he sighed and sat on the dining room floor, feet hanging out into the yard. He clearly left space for Dean to sit next to him, so Dean did. 

“I bought this place and get away from everyone. I couldn’t stand the looks. I know what they call me in town, you know…” Castiel scoffed. “The Fallen Angel... Disgusting… The Fallen Angel was Lucifer, Dean… But they’re associating me with my unit… For us, for vets, The Fallen are the ones who didn’t come home. The Fallen are all of my unit, but me and one other. Either way you see it, it’s unkind… But I’m pretty sure you know that.”

“Yes, I do,” Dean sympathized. “I have asked people to not call you that. I’m really sorry that you found out. I tried to end it before you did. Guess it didn’t work.”

“I appreciate the effort.”

“Cas, you should give me your phone number, so I don’t have to come out here and bother you.”

“I don’t mind, but I’ll give you my number anyway.”

~

Dean’s computer beeped with a Facebook message. Glancing at his browser quickly, it was clearly a new friend request. Dean knew he should wait until he was off the clock to look at it, but they had been sitting inactive for 2 hours. He clicked on the friend icon.

You have a new friend request: Castiel Novak.

A huge grin formed on Dean’s face. Even Garth, at his desk across the station, noticed because Dean was given a curious look. Dean ignored everything but the request.

Accepted.

~

The first snow had just dumped on Big Sky. After a long day of writing up traffic collisions due to weather and hours out in the cold, Dean was finally home, wrapped up in a blanket and lounging on the couch. The laptop Sammy bought him sat on the coffee table in front of him, but he was ignoring it in favor of the news. A ding crackled loudly over the laptop speakers. The browser tab labeled Facebook was blinking.

Dean picked up the laptop to check the message.

Castiel Novak: Good evening, Dean.  
Tawnie and I made a snowman.

A picture of a lopsided snowman and a nonplussed looking Tawnie was received a moment later. The snowman wore a silly knitted cap, puff ball on top and dangling off each tie. It had two blue marbles for eyes, mismatched wooden spoons for arms, and a kitchen towel for a loin cloth.

Dean burst out laughing. He couldn’t help the flurry of soppy endearment that flooded through him.

Dean Winchester: hes gorgeous. tawnie looks pissed tho.

Castiel Novak: She wouldn’t speak to me for the rest of the afternoon. But I think I wore her down around dinner time.

Dean chuckled again.

Dean Winchester: sure it wasnt the other way round?

Castiel Novak: Totally sure!

Dean Winchester: least youre confident. good to see someones been enjoying the snow.

Castiel Novak: Long day?

Dean Winchester: 35 weather related traffic incidents. what do you think?

Castiel Novak: You deserve a warm cup of cocoa the way my grandmother made it for herself.

Dean Winchester: and how is that?

Castiel Novak: Mexican chocolate with Bailey’s.

Dean Winchester: i like your grandmother.

Castiel Novak: At least someone does.   
That’s not to say that her recipe isn’t good. 

Dean Winchester: ha. well we cant win them all.

There was a few minute pause in which Dean had almost forgotten about the conversation. His Facebook dinged again.

Castiel Novak: What are you doing this weekend?

Dean Winchester: sleeping laundry… the usual… meaning absolutely nothing.

Castiel Novak: What is sleeping laundry?  
Would you want to come over for dinner? I make a pretty good burger.

Dean Winchester: i guess i deserve that. i hate typing.  
you want me to come over to your house?  
burgers? hell yes!  
when?

Castiel Novak: Whenever you’d like. I was planning on starting the cooking around 5.

Dean Winchester: I’ll be there round 5.

Castiel Novak: :D

Dean had noticed that he couldn’t stop the grin on his face when Castiel Novak was involved.

~

Dean Winchester had been in Big Sky for a year and three weeks the fourth time he saw Cas.

Dean messaged Castiel that he was on his way over at 4:50pm, and when he pulled Baby into the driveway, the gate was wide open. He pulled the Impala into the driveway.

Getting out of the car, Dean surveyed the garden. It was a little abysmal looking, with patches of melting snow, soggy lawn, covered flower beds, and half naked trees. Castiel had managed to keep most of the messy leaves raked into sopping piles.

The driveway and front walk were completely clear, so he easily made his way to the front door. It opened before he could knock. “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas.”

“Heard you coming. It’s hard not to with that beast,” Castiel smiled over Dean’s shoulder at the car in the driveway.

“Should I close the gate?”

“It’s unnecessary,” Castiel assured him and continued. “I never got to tell you. I think your car is beautiful and you obviously take good care of it.”

“She’s my baby.” 

Dean stepped inside, pulled the door closed behind him, kicked off his shoes and wiggled his toes. It was an absent routine as he looked around the front room. Like the rest of Castiel’s property, it was clean and well arranged. The front door opened into the center of the living area, and Castiel had used it to divide the space. To the right was a sitting area with large upholstered couch, and the rug and recliner were matched to it. The left was mostly open space, but an upright piano, against the far wall, was most prominent. It was neighbored by two identical wardrobes, one on either side.

“I’d give you a tour,” Castiel said. “But you’ve pretty much seen the whole house. The bathroom and bedroom are down the hallway to the left.”

“I really like it, Cas,” Dean said, and he meant it. “It’s so you.” He pointed at the piano. “Do you play?”

Castiel nodded. “I had lessons in elementary school. I took it up again after I moved here. I’ve… improved…” he hesitated. “I may play for you some day, but not tonight.”

Dean grinned. “I’ve been talking to you for a couple weeks now, and you have this eerie way of answering my questions before I ask them.”

“I don’t know how to respond to that,” Castiel said simply. 

“Trust me, I’m not sayin’ you’re creepy or anything… I just… It surprises me because we haven’t known each other for long. I mean, I can do that with Sam, but he’s my brother.”

“How is Sam?” Castiel asked and headed toward the kitchen, Dean following close behind. 

“Doing sasquatch things,” Dean shrugged. “He and Jess put in an offer on the house IN San Francisco. I told him he was insane, but both he and Jess wanted to be closer to work. I secretly hope they get it, but I’d never tell him that… What do you want me to do?”

“I’m making dinner for you, Dean. Sit and keep me company.” Castiel said with finality in his tone. He pulled some already prepped dinner makings out of the fridge. As he flit around the kitchen Castiel continued the previous thought, “But why wouldn’t you want to tell him?”

“I donno. It’s an obnoxious brother thing, I guess.” Dean drew out a stool from under the bar side of the counter and sat down. “He knows I just want him to be happy. Me messin’ with him like that is kinda the only way I can bug him now days…” Dean trailed off.

“You miss him…” Castiel paused in organizing the ingredients to look at Dean.

Dean made a noncommittal face. “Yeah, sure. He’s the only family I have left. We just want different things out of life. I can’t stand the city and he gets stir crazy out here. Too calm.”

“...Dean…”

“What?”

“It’s not shameful to admit how much you miss your family… I just wish I had family to miss.”

Dean scowled. “I donno. It’s depressing. And that really doesn’t make me feel better. No family?”

“Orphan. Since I was quite young. No siblings…” Castiel stated like it was just another fact. Dean figured it had become another accepted void, like his missing leg. 

“That must make for boring holidays. We’ll have to fix that.”

Castiel smiled over the hamburger patties. “I’d like that.”

After dinner, Castiel and Dean had moved into the living room and plopped into the plush couch. Dean was still raving about spice mix in the hamburgers, which was keeping a shy grin on Castiel’s face. 

“I promise you, Dean, it’s the fresh herbs. I grow and dry them myself.”

“Whatever it is, it’s awesome.”

They both settled on the couch, angled toward each other. They paused. Castiel opened his mouth to say something and closed it again.

“None of that. What is it?”

“If we’re going to be here awhile…” Cas paused, cleared his throat, and looked away. “Do you mind if I take off my leg? It gets uncomfortable if I’m curling up to relax.”

Dean let out a breath. “That’s it?” he chuckled. “Cas, I accepted who you are the moment I saw you. You don’t have to be apologetic for your differences, and that’s how I see it… You shouldn’t have to be apologetic for your scars, believe me. I know this is something you don’t want to talk about, maybe someday, but I know how you lost that leg. I know what you and your unit accomplished, and you should NEVER have to apologize for the service and sacrifice you made for all of us...” Dean paused and coughed. Castiel was looking at his lap, waves of emotion rolling across his features. “Sorry. I get a little carried away.”

“No. Thank you,” Castiel looked up at Dean and his eyes were a little watery. “Sometimes I… I’m just happy I finally found someone who seems to understand.”

Dean reached out and took Castiel’s hand. He squeezed it before letting it go. “I may be a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but I always try.”

Castiel leaned down and rolled up his left pant leg to his knee, revealing the fitted form, metal bar, joint, and foot attachment. He simply pulled off the form and set the prosthesis on the floor, out of the way. Adjusting the roll of his pant leg to cover all of his left leg, he pulled both of his legs up onto the couch in a pseudo cross legged position. While settling, he edged closer to Dean.

Castiel leaned back into the couch and breathed. “That is so much more comfortable… This new prosthetic pinches a little, and I haven’t had a chance to go the VA to get it adjusted.”

“Cas… You really should go do that…”

“I know,” he sighs. “It’s just a long drive, and it’s not THAT uncomfortable.”

“Cas…” Dean reached out and grabbed Castiel’s hand again, but this time he didn’t let go.

“Alright. I’ll call and make an appointment on Monday,” Castiel said and eyed Dean. 

Castiel’s hand squirmed lose from Dean’s gentle grip, and for one horrible moment, Dean thought he was pulling away. Instead Castiel adjusted it and threaded their fingers together. They sat in silence for a minute, Dean enjoying the connection. He was glad that he’d read the atmosphere right.

“I had debated whether or not to specify this as a date. I decided to read how it went, and ask you out next time… Now I don’t think I have to…” Castiel said quietly, not able to make eye contact with Dean. “It’s been a long time since I’ve…” he stopped.

“Been able to connect with anyone?” Dean asked, understanding the predicament. He didn’t wait for a response, “Yeah, me too. Once I got older, the short weekend flings weren’t working for me anymore, but I’d lost the desire, or maybe patience, I donno, to make a more lasting connection with someone. Something about you made that connection easy.”

“And you don’t mind finding that with a man?”

Dean smiled, “I feel like I should care about that, but I don’t. Not anymore. And you know what?”

The intensity in Dean’s gaze drew Castiel’s eyes to his. “I’m REALLY ok with this. And it doesn’t hurt that you’re easy on the eyes.” Dean winked, pulled their intertwined hands up, and kissed Castiel’s knuckles.

Castiel blushed a beautiful scarlet. Dean reached out with his free hand and ran a thumb over the flush on Castiel’s cheek.

“You’re easy on the eyes, too, Dean,” Castiel whispered.

Dean smirked. “I’m going to kiss you now.” He leaned forward.

“Please do,” barely escaped Castiel before their lips crashed together and Dean pulled the other man into his lap. It was fervor and sweetness. Dean could feel the strength of the man he held against him, and it stoked the fire. But the kiss was deep, slow, and exploring, fueled by another kind of need. Falling toward Castiel felt like certainty, security, and understanding.

“Stay tonight,” Castiel breathed in between kisses.

Dean chuckled. “Hell yeah. And you made me dinner first.”

Castiel nipped Dean’s lip in response.

~

After Dean Winchester had been in Big Sky for a year and three weeks he saw Cas every day, and Castiel started leaving the gate to his front drive wide open.


End file.
